by Cheryl Holt
She hurried for the door, and Theo said, “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I have to talk to Preston. Just for a minute. He should be apprised of this recent development.”
“But where would he be at this hour? In his tent?”
“Yes, Theo, he’s in his tent.”
“Oh, Susan, should you?”
This was old ground they’d raked over many times, and Susan wasn’t in the mood to rake over it again.
“Yes, Theo, I should.”
“What’s your plan with regard to him? You’ve never told me.”
“I have no plan,” Susan lied, masking her expression.
“You must have a goal you’re chasing. Are you hoping he’ll marry you? Is that it?”
“What if it is? What if it’s what I want?”
“Edna will never agree.”
“No, she won’t. She’d like me to wed a soldier and live the life she lived with the Colonel. I’d rather slit my wrists.”
“You’re making your own choice.”
“I’m not saying I am, and I’m not saying I’m not.”
“You know I think he’s a dodgy character.”
“And you know I don’t care what you think.”
“I’m afraid he has ulterior motives toward you.”
“Ulterior motives? What do you mean?”
“It has to be money or our family connections. It would be quite a coup for him to snag a baron’s niece.”
“So what? Everyone marries for money and connections.”
“Have you explained to him about your dowry?”
“If we’ve ever discussed it, I wouldn’t admit it to you.”
“So he’s aware that Edna has to approve of your betrothed or the funds will never be released to him.”
Susan gnawed on her cheek, eager to tell Theo to be silent.
It was a great dilemma about the elopement that Susan still hadn’t resolved. But he had plenty of money. He always bragged about it, and it was a sufficient amount that they could travel to Italy and reside in Rome where they’d be insanely happy.
And who could predict how it would all end? Maybe she was completely wrong about Edna. Maybe after some years had passed, Edna would miss Susan. Maybe she’d relent and accept the match. Especially if Susan had a baby someday.
Not right away of course. She refused to grow fat and ugly. She had to remain slim and beautiful so Preston would desire her. Yet if she did have a baby in the future, it might soothe Edna’s temper so there was no reason to enlighten Preston.
“The terms of my dowry aren’t any of Preston’s business, Theo.”
“Really, Susan? I’m curious—if I mentioned the issue to him—would he stick around?”
“Yes, he would. He loves me!” she blurted out.
“Let’s put him to the test then. Let’s inform him of the stipulation and watch his response.” Theo shook her head. “I’m sorry, Susan, but I’m betting he’d be gone the next morning.”
“You don’t know anything, Theo, and I suggest you butt out.”
Theo shrugged. “Fine, but if it crashes down on you, and you’re crushed in the rubble, promise you won’t blame me.”
“Blame you for what?”
“For not helping you or stopping you from committing folly.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. I’ve never committed a folly in my life, and I’m not about to start.”
“Well then…good.”
Susan marched out and went directly to Preston’s tent, but he wasn’t there. She tarried until the night began to seem spooky—where could he be?—and she finally gave up.
When she arrived back, Theo was still up, on her knees on her bunk and gazing out at the sky.
“What did Mr. Price have to say?” she asked.
“He wasn’t there.”
“You waited for him all this time?”
“Yes, but some of Mr. Webster’s assistants were having a card game,” Susan fibbed. “He must have decided to attend.”
“Could be.”
“Why are you awake? Why are you up and staring out at the stars?”
“Because I wish I could simply fly away and never return.”
“That’s certainly dramatic. Are you pining away over Mr. Grey?”
“Absolutely, but he could never have been mine. I guess that’s the difference between you and me. I prayed so hard that my dream would come true, but I realized long ago that I can’t change the world.”
“Your father would never have let you wed him,” Susan said.
“No, he wouldn’t have.”
“It obviously wasn’t meant to be, so it’s stupid to mourn and mope.”
“I’m sure it is, but I’ll keep on anyway.”
Theo’s misery was so tangible that Susan could practically feel it.
If she’d been a good friend, if she’d been a good cousin, she’d have asked Theo about Mr. Grey, would have allowed her to vent her woe, then Susan could have eased Theo’s anguish with kind comments and commiseration.
But Susan didn’t care about Mr. Grey or Theo’s problems. She was worried about Preston and wondering where he was. She had her own problems to solve, and there wasn’t time or energy to fret about Theo’s.
Preston was in the shadows outside Susan’s tent. The flaps over the windows were rolled back so the breeze could waft in.
Susan and Lady Theo were chatting, and he’d dawdled, knowing he shouldn’t listen, but he was bored and not in the mood to return to his own quiet, suffocating tent.
There were native women in the slave area of the camp who enjoyed having a tumble with the white men who sailed down the river. He loved their dark skin. It was so exotic and arousing, and he’d decided to seek them out, when Lady Theo mentioned that the Wallaces had been evicted by Cedric Webster.
The news raised many questions. Was he included in that group? Was he to go too? Should he accompany them when they departed? He thought he probably would. He still hadn’t learned the amount of Susan’s dowry, and until he found out what it was, he was sticking to her like glue.
Suddenly, the discussion moved to Susan’s relationship with Preston. The adage was that an eavesdropper never heard anything good about himself, so he was debating whether to walk on, to leave them to their conversation, when Lady Theo voiced a statement that riveted him:
So he’s aware that Edna has to approve of your betrothed or the funds will never be released to him.
He stood, frozen in his spot, listening to a bit more so he was positive he grasped the ramifications. The wily old Colonel must have recognized that Susan was obstinate and spoiled and might demand to pick her own husband. Or perhaps he simply wanted to control her from the grave.
Edna had to arrange Susan’s marriage. Edna had to consent to the match. If Edna didn’t consent, then Susan would never get the money the Colonel had set aside.
“Well, well,” he muttered to himself, “that certainly clarifies matters.”
He spun and tiptoed away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
You have a letter.”
“I don’t want it.”
Soloman tried to walk by Valois, but Valois always got his way. The only correspondence Soloman ever received was from his cousin, Benjamin, and Soloman couldn’t abide any news from England.
It was never good news, and if Benjamin would simply cut the frayed cord that bound them, Soloman could be free from his past once and for all.
He had been back in Cairo for over a week and was living in his suite of rooms in Valois’s villa. His life had returned to normal so swiftly that Preston, Theo, and the rest of the Wallaces seemed like a bad dream.
He missed Theo very, very much. During their brief interval together, she’d filled his days with joy. He’d relished having the chance to fret over her, to watch over and protect her, to think about her and wonder what she was doing.
Now, with his not having to think about her, his days were impossibly long and boring. He realized that time and distance wou
ld cure what ailed him, but for the moment, he was surly as a wounded bear.
“You have to read it,” Valois said, referring to the letter, and he motioned Soloman into his library.
Soloman sighed with resignation and followed him in. Valois seated himself at his desk, and Soloman sat in the chair across. Valois opened a locked drawer, pulled out the envelope, and laid it in front of him.
“It’s from your cousin,” Valois said, but Soloman had already guessed that much.
He stared at the writing, but couldn’t make himself break the seal. For the prior year, court hearings had been proceeding so Benjamin could finally inherit the title and estate, but it had taken forever to arrive at this point.
When Caleb had first disappeared, the investigation had dragged on for ages. Soloman and Benjamin had been the prime suspects, and with foul play alleged, numerous bankers and trustees had filed suit so the standard seven years had to pass before Caleb could be officially declared deceased.
On the one hand, it was done because people hoped Caleb would be found alive. But on the other, it was done to punish Soloman and his cousin, to postpone the delivery of the money and lands because they might have engineered Caleb’s demise.
Soloman only minded the delay because it kept the whole dirty business in the public eye. If the estate had been settled immediately, much of the brouhaha would have died down. With the resolution approaching, it would all be dredged up again.
Where Caleb, Benjamin, and the entire debacle were concerned, Soloman had no secrets from Valois. In fact, Valois was the sole person with whom Soloman would discuss the disaster, the sole person whose opinion he would heed.
“I can’t look at it,” he said. “Will you read it for me? Just tell me the important parts.”
“All right.”
Valois was slow as a snail, dragging out the drama to an excruciating height. Ultimately, Soloman couldn’t stand the suspense, and he glanced over to see that Benjamin’s message was short and concise.
“What does he say?” Soloman asked.
“The court case is nearing an end. You have to come home.”
“Why?”
“You were Caleb’s legal guardian, so you have to sign legal documents and verify the change of investiture. He also demands you be there so the two of you can present a united front to the world.”
“He would,” Soloman muttered. “He has a thicker skin than me, and he has the patience to suffer nonsense. I don’t.”
“It probably can’t be completed unless you go.”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t care about Benjamin? He was your great chum when you were boys.”
“He was, but we haven’t been boys for two decades, and all of it seems to have happened in another lifetime. At this late date, why should I involve myself?”
“You’re involved whether you want to be or not. Your father guaranteed it when he drafted his Will.”
“The bastard. I wish he’d left me out of it.”
“You wish your father had disinherited you? You wish he hadn’t been fond?”
Soloman scowled. “No, I don’t wish that.”
“You’re weary, Soloman. Your trip down the river fatigued you and soured your mood. You’re too tired to focus on your responsibilities.”
“I never sought any responsibilities. You know that.”
Valois smiled a crafty smile. “Occasionally, they are forced on us.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“May I offer some advice?” Valois said.
“I suppose you will no matter how I reply.”
Valois gave a very French shrug. “I am much wiser than you, and I must tell you what you refuse to hear. Especially when you are being obstinate. Someone must counsel you appropriately. Why not me?”
Soloman studied Valois, the older man who’d never steered him wrong. Valois had taken him in when he was a stray on the run from scandal, had helped him grow up and calm down, had helped him build a life and career in Cairo. Without Valois, Soloman would have had very little at all.
“You win, Valois. What should I do?”
“You should go back of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Soloman grumbled. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“If you don’t, your cousin may never inherit what is his by right.”
“Should it be his though?” Soloman asked. “I’ve never believed Caleb is dead. Despite how others harangue about it, despite how long it’s been, I think he was stolen from his cradle, and he’s alive and fine.”
“It was always a possibility.”
“What if we proceed with all of this, and a decade from now he walks in the door and demands Benjamin give it all back? Where will it end? I feel as if it’s a black cloud that will never stop raining down on me.”
“I understand, mon ami, but the law decrees that Caleb is deceased. Why not assist Benjamin as he’s requesting? Why not travel to London, sign the papers, and have it finished? If it flares again in the future, so be it. For now, it can be over for you. You can be free.”
Soloman stared out at the Nile. The river rolled slowly past, the sails on boats fluttering in the breeze. He yearned to be on one of them, yearned to be somewhere new and different. He’d assumed he was content in Egypt, but since his misadventure with Theo, the country was suffocating him.
Did any of the London fiasco still matter? Did Benjamin still matter? Did Caleb still matter?
While he pretended they didn’t, he was only fooling himself. His greatest regret was that he had no idea what had happened to Caleb. He’d give anything to know the answer.
And what about Benjamin? He was the only one who’d stood by Soloman, the only one who’d loudly insisted the gossip was ridiculous. When Benjamin had been so loyal, shouldn’t Soloman return the favor?
With his recent flirtation so abruptly concluded, his emotions were raw, so he was in no condition to make a cogent decision. He had to weigh his options, had to have a few more conversations with Valois where Valois could persuade him of the correct path.
“I have to reflect on this,” he said.
“Benjamin needs you to come right away.”
“I have to wrap my head around the consequences.”
“You’re not twenty any longer, Soloman. The slings and arrows shot at you will bounce off now. None of them will impale you.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll leave it alone then, but we will have this discussion again, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Trust me. I know what is best for you.”
Valois scrutinized Soloman, his expression calculating and conniving in a way Soloman hated.
“I’ve received some information that might interest you,” Valois casually said.
“What is it?”
“The Wallaces are returning to Cairo.”
Soloman’s pulse raced, and he struggled to seem nonchalant, even though he was dying for any tidbit about Theo.
“I thought they were staying at Cedric’s camp for a whole month.”
“Apparently, Cedric kicked them out. I guess there was trouble with the son…?”
Valois paused, waiting for Soloman to fill in the details, and there was no reason why he shouldn’t. “The boy, Fenton, is a monster. He constantly plays tricks on Lady Theo. There was an incident at the excavation where he abandoned her in the pyramid.”
“Cedric wouldn’t have found that sort of mischief to be funny.”
“No.”
“So they’re coming back.”
Soloman didn’t want to inquire, didn’t want to be curious about the Wallaces, but he couldn’t keep himself from asking, “Will they tarry in Egypt? Or are they booking passage for England?”
“I’m not cognizant of what Mrs. Wallace has planned.” Slyly, Valois added, “I’ll invite them to supper, and I’ll know more after I’ve spoken to her.”
“When will you have them to supper? Be sure to tell me, so I can avoid them
. I need another quarrel with Edna Wallace like I need a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”
Valois raised an elegant brow. “You wouldn’t like to see Lady Theo again?”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing her, but not if it means I have to dine with her aunt.”
“I heard you and Lady Theo had become quite friendly.”
His damned spies. What had they observed? “Yes, we were friendly, but I wouldn’t read anything into it.”
“Romance isn’t blooming?”
Solomon snorted with amusement. “No, Valois, romance is definitely not blooming, so don’t shove your French nose into my private business.”
“How is Mrs. Valda?” Valois asked just to needle Soloman. “Has she welcomed you with open arms?”
“Cassandra is fine.”
“She was entertaining an Italian count while you were away.”
“It doesn’t surprise me. I wouldn’t presume to choose her acquaintances—particularly when I am away for weeks at a time. What she does is none of my affair.”
“And neither is Lady Theo?”
“Lady Theo is especially none of my affair.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I’d best be going.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I have to find a new fare to take down the river.”
“I’d rather you remain in the city, so we can discuss Benjamin’s letter.”
If Soloman remained, he’d spend every second pining over Theo. He’d devise a way to put himself in her path, to sneak off with her when Edna wasn’t looking. It was insanity. There was no other word for it.
It was better to hide while Edna regrouped. Once he was certain Theo had left, once he was certain she’d headed to England, he’d return to Cairo and let Valois convince him to head there too.
But in the interim, he would slink off to a far corner of the country. If he had to sail down the Nile alone, then that is what he would do.
“I have no desire to remain in Cairo,” he firmly stated.
“You’re awfully determined to evade Lady Theo.”
When Valois smirked, he said, “I don’t wish to see her. Stop playing games with me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, mon ami.”
Soloman marched out, and Valois called, “I expect they’ll be in Cairo by tomorrow afternoon.”
